


The Last Thing He Said

by Duck_Life



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Friendship/Love, Goodbyes, M/M, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 03:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20650349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life/pseuds/Duck_Life
Summary: Eddie and Richie: goodbyes over the years.





	The Last Thing He Said

Early autumn sun makes Bevvie’s hair look like a carrot-colored halo, a big wavy bubble around her head. Richie lets his eyes focus and unfocus. He feels lazy and comfortable and safe for the first time since June. Bev is telling the Losers about seeing them all as grown-ups, some weird precognitive vision she had down in the sewers.

Richie asks the question he’s sure must be on all their minds. “Am I handsome as an adult?”

She smiles. “You’ll grow into your looks.” 

Bill grabs a piece of broken Coke bottle and makes them all swear they’ll come finish the job once they’re adults. Even Eddie lets Bill slice his palm open, despite all his worries about contamination, despite the fact that it’s a dirty piece of glass from the ground. It’s like they all know they’re joined in something bigger now, something scary and huge and important. 

“Your mom’s gonna lose her shit when she sees that,” Richie says, looking down at the cut on Eddie’s hand. 

He shrugs. “I’ll wash it with hydrogen peroxide when I get home. You should  _ all _ do that, by the way,” Eddie says, eyeing the rest of the Losers Club. 

“Noted,” Mike says. 

Stan’s already gone, and Richie can tell that Eddie knows he needs to go but doesn’t want to leave. “What do you think Bev meant?” he asks, tugging Eddie aside. “About me growing into my looks? You think I’m gonna be handsome?” 

“Definitely,” Eddie teases. “You’re gonna look just like your Aunt Margaret.” 

Richie slips into a Voice that sounds like it came out of a black-and-white sitcom from the fifties. “Well, I think I’ll take that as a compliment,” he declares, grinning smugly at Eddie. “My Aunt Margaret is quite the handsome dame, if I do say so myself.” 

Eddie shoves him and Richie gives him the finger. Summer is over. The last thing Eddie says before leaving the gang that day is, “See you later, guys.” Richie hugs him goodbye, careful of the cast, and then Eddie walks away. 

* * *

That afternoon is the last time all seven of them are together for a long, long time. But Eddie and Richie hang out almost every day. Richie tags along with Eddie to the pharmacy and drags Eddie to the arcade. They get ice cream and go see movies. They show up uninvited at the Denbrough house to steal zebra cakes from Bill’s pantry. 

They don’t need to hide from Bowers or Pennywise anymore, but the clubhouse still makes a great haven. Sometimes the two of them are down there with Ben and Mike. Sometimes it’s just the two of them, so tangled up in the hammock it gets hard to tell whose arms and legs belong to whom. 

Richie moves away from Derry after tenth grade. The guys throw a sad little going-away party in the clubhouse the night before he leaves, complete with a case of beer that Ben somehow managed to procure. Everyone starts telling their favorite Richie stories, which quickly turns into a roast of Trashmouth Tozier. 

When Eddie tells him goodbye that night, he kisses Richie on the cheek, smiles and says, “I’m gonna miss this mug.” And he pats Richie’s cheek for good measure. 

* * *

Richie only visits Derry a few times after that. He comes back for Halloween and spends a night watching scary movies with Eddie and shoveling candy corn into his mouth. He comes back for one of Bill’s birthdays. 

Stan’s graduation— a year after the rest of the gang’s— marks the last time Richie returns to Derry. At least, the last time for about 20 years. He drinks too much at Stan’s party and keeps knocking shit over.

At some point, he ends up sitting in Stan’s laundry room with Stan forcing a mug of tap water into his hands. “Drink that,” Stan orders. “Stop acting like an idiot. I’m going to go back out there now.” 

“I’m so—  _ hic _ — proud of you, Stan the Man,” Richie babbles. He sips his water. Stan leaves. Alone in the tiny room, Richie drinks water and looks at the array of cleaning supplies lined up in neat rows against the wall. Fabric softener? He’s never used fabric softener before. 

Eddie finds him. Or maybe Stan sent him to babysit Richie. Whatever the case, Eddie is here and Richie is glad. “Aren’t you so proud of our boy?” he slurs, rocking a little atop the washing machine. 

Eddie climbs up on the dryer to be next to him. “So proud,” he agrees. Somehow Richie ends up holding Eddie’s hand, but he doesn’t know which of them initiated it. It’s dark. He’s drunk. “He’s doing the smart thing, getting out of Derry. Like you did.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Richie points out, listing against him. “I would’ve stayed.”

“In this shithole? Yeah right,” Eddie says. “Even when I left I didn’t really leave. I come home from college like every weekend to help Ma around the house.”

“You’re the sweetest,” Richie says, reaching up to pinch his cheek. Eddie scowls and elbows him. “The best boy. The best boy! You and Stan are both the best boys.”

“It’s Stan’s night,” Eddie reminds him.

“But  _ you’re _ my favorite,” Richie says, pressing his head against Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie just kind of lets him, sitting there in the dark surrounded by the faint smell of laundry detergent. “Because you’re so cute, Eds.”

It’s like he can  _ feel _ Eddie blushing. “... You’re cute too,” Eddie mumbles, not sure exactly how to deflect that. Richie just chuckles and shuts his eyes. 

* * *

The pale, grimy light barely makes it possible to make out Eddie’s face. On the plus side, it’s also hard to see the gruesome wound in his chest. It’s hard to see the blood seeping out of Eddie Kaspbrak, cooling and congealing. Doesn’t matter— Richie can feel it. “Hey, hey,” he says, and he clicks his tongue. “Eyes on me, Eds. Keep those peepers open, yeah?” 

“Mmf,” Eddie mumbles intelligently. It’s getting harder and harder for him to stay alert. He reaches to his right and finds nothing but stone. “Is Ben still here? Where’d Ben go?” 

“Ben’s with the others,” Richie says, sparing a glance toward the center of the huge cavern. All of their voices are blending together—  _ old woman motherfucking clown stupid clown fucking mimic _ — and he’s focusing on Eddie. 

Eddie’s hand comes up and grasps at the side of Richie’s face. He knocks Richie’s glasses askew slightly and leaves bloody fingerprints on Richie’s cheekbone, but Richie doesn’t really give a fuck. “You’re so pretty,” Eddie says.

Richie coughs out a laugh like a man about to be hanged. “Now I know you’re delirious, Eds.” 

“Nonono,” Eddie mumbles. It looks like he’s making a serious effort to keep his eyes open. “Always thought so. Even when we were kids. ‘Pretty boy’ is like…an insult, you know? Bad thing to be. At least, that’s what people meant when they called  _ me _ pretty boy. But I always thought…” His hand rests against Richie’s cheek. “You really are pretty, Rich.” 

“Guess Bevvie was right, huh? I grew into my looks.” Richie’s glasses are cracked and bloody. A trickle of blood flows from the corner of Eddie’s mouth and— impossibly— he’s smiling. “Big Bill’s taking care of the clown,” Richie promises. “And then, uhm, and then we’ll make Ben carry you outta here, yeah? I mean, he’s really strong and you weigh like, what, 90 pounds, so.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you,” Richie snaps back instinctively. 

The rest of the Losers are still yelling, converging on Pennywise. “You should go help them,” Eddie says. 

“They got it,” Richie says, but he has no fucking clue. He’s not leaving Eddie’s side. 

“Go help them,” Eddie says more firmly. He puts a hand at the center of Richie’s chest and shoves weakly. “They need you. Bill and Ben and Bev and Mike, they need you.”

“ _ You _ need me.”

“I’ll be fine,” Eddie says, but his voice is slow and quiet. There’s no color left in his face. “I’m serious, dipshit, you go help them or I’ll… I’ll come back and haunt you like crazy.”

Richie laughs again, panicky and distraught. “You’re not gonna die, man.”

Eddie shrugs. “It’s not so bad,” he says. “Not bad at all. And I’m, I’m not scared anymore.”

“You’re not gonna fucking die.”

“Go help them,” Eddie says, putting as much force as he can behind the words. “I… I’m okay. Just tired is all. I… I think I’m gonna just rest. I’ll just rest my eyes.” 

“Eds…”

“Go,” Eddie practically whines. He pushes Richie again. “I can’t fucking help them but you need to. For both of us.”

Richie finally concedes. “Okay,” he says, and he pats Eddie’s hand. “Okay, you just… rest, then, and I’ll go.” 

“Mm,” Eddie agrees. And at the last second, as Richie stands to go, Eddie says, “I love you, Rich.” 

Richie swallows a lump in his throat. “Yeah,” he says. “Love you too, Eds.” He spares one last look at Eddie, pale and still on the ground, and then he turns to go help his friends kill It for good. 


End file.
